


Not All For Show

by timehopper



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, M/M, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Club, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 06:29:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17976227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timehopper/pseuds/timehopper
Summary: McCree loves to show off. Hanzo loves to show him off. What better way to make use of those facts, then, than to go somewhere where they can be watched?





	Not All For Show

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Bendoverwatch @ Pillowfort's Kink Week](https://www.pillowfort.io/posts/402921). Opened up "requests" and my good friend Kem asked for McHanzo with Exhibitionism/Voyeurism. I actually did like... 5 different things before I settled on what this ended up being. So maybe one of the alternate stories will come to life one day, too. Who knows!

If there is one thing in this world that Jesse McCree loves, it’s making a last-minute grand entrance to turn the tides of battle and single-handedly taking out entire enemy platoons with just a few clips of ammunition. He likes a show, and he likes to be the centre of it. It’s a well-known fact, and one of the biggest things that had initially attracted Hanzo to him.

Hanzo himself is well-known around the Gibraltar base for taking every opportunity he can to boast of his skill, even if nobody is around to listen. It had become an increasingly common occurrence to overhear Hanzo over the comms as he make a remark, muttered under his breath, about what an impressive shot he had made. They were sensitive enough that even when he was trying to be discrete, he was still overheard, and so one day, after hearing nothing from his end, McCree had taken it upon himself to tease him about it. “Must’ve been off your game today, huh?” He had said. “Didn’t hear a single thing about what a crack shot you are.”

Looking back now, Hanzo knows that that had been the moment he had fallen for Jesse McCree.

Their courtship had been fun. Little competitions that had grown into fondly watching the other show off ridiculous trick shots they would never get to pull off in the battlefield (but they tried anyway), which in turn had evolved into watching each other’s backs on missions, which in turn had evolved into watching each other’s backsides on missions. And from there, they knew they could no longer deny the attraction.

And so they had slept together. Over and over and over again.

They started going out together, too, outside of undercover missions. Hanzo found he liked McCree’s company and his gentle, easy way of speaking even more than he liked hearing the bed creak under their combined weight as they ground each other into it. And of course, it went without saying that Hanzo liked to show off McCree every chance he got: joined hands, and arm around his waist, a compliment paid without prompting to someone they had never met. McCree was much the same: he would take every opportunity he could to brag about how lucky he was to have ‘snagged and bagged’ Hanzo. Crude and uncouth as the expression was, Hanzo had come to love it all the same. It was just one more thing he had come to love about Jesse McCree.

Showing each other off was fun. But it was never, ever more fun than when someone else was interested.

Hanzo could not deny that Jesse McCree, aside from being hyper-competent and skilled in everything he did, was an attractive man.  _Too_  attractive, sometimes. There had been more than one occasion in which someone had approached McCree while they were separated and tried to give him his number. Without fail, Hanzo would swoop in, slotting to McCree’s side with an arm around his waist and a pointed, possessive smirk on his face. He’d feel McCree shiver against him, feel the slight rumble in his lover’s chest as he made a noise of arousal. Whoever had been trying to talk to McCree would leave, and later on Hanzo would take McCree against a wall, whispering, “What I would not do for them to see this. For them to see how you belong to me, wholly and completely.”

And McCree would come undone on a shuddering breath, clutching Hanzo’s shoulders and burying his face into his lover’s neck. It was almost routine, and always resulted in some of the best sex they had ever had. It should not have come as a surprise, then, when one night, after they had finished and were settling into bed for the night, McCree had said, “They could, you know.”

“Could what?” Curiosity piqued, Hanzo had sat up, leaning over to stroke McCree's sweat-sticky hair from his brow.

“See this. Or… all of that. Everything we just did.” McCree bats Hanzo's hand away, grinning as a look of confusion crosses Hanzo's face first, then realization. “Let people know whose I am. And that there ain't nobody who gets to fuck this sweet ass like you do.”

And so, they had ended up here.

Hanzo sits at the bar, posture straight but relaxed, watching the clientele of the sex club McCree has chosen for their little experience. It's a little bit unusual, seeing such a strange mix of people in regular clothing and in little more than underwear, but somehow it’s helping to settle his nerves. He’s caught the eye of a few of them already.

But that’s nothing compared to McCree. He knows how to work this crowd.

Hanzo does not know if Jesse has been to a sex club before, but the way he seems to charm

just about everyone that walks by with little more than a smile and a nod makes him wonder if he just knows how to press the right buttons in the right people.

Under normal circumstances, he would try to discourage some of Jesse’s distant admirers, but tonight that is not the goal. He wants to  _en_ courage them this time. He invites them to try, silently, with a tilt of the head and a quirk of the lips. Some do approach, and when they ask if they’re together, or if they’re open, Hanzo always replies with the same thing: “You will see.”

Eventually, they’ve attracted enough people for this to be satisfying. Hanzo stands and tosses back the rest of his sake, leaving the shotglass on the bar counter. “Come, Jesse,” he says, commanding despite how gentle his tone is, and Jesse stands, following after him like a dog on a leash. Hanzo wonders if maybe they should have brought a collar, after all.

They retreat into one of the rooms at the back of the club, one with a large, open window in the front. No glass separates the inside from the outside, but there is a clear, unspoken barrier between the two areas. Hanzo leads McCree in and pushes him down to the bed, crawling over top of him and smiling.

“Do you know the safeword?” Hanzo asks.

“Won’t need it,” McCree says, and immediately, the game is on. Hanzo puts a hand on McCree’s neck, fingers applying light pressure to the sides.

“That is not what I asked,” Hanzo says. McCree laughs.

“I know it, darling. Same as always. ‘Lonely.’”

“Good.” Hanzo lets go of his lover’s neck and leans down to kiss him softly, eyes slipping shut as he massages Jesse’s lips open. Jesse responds in kind, arms coming up to untie Hanzo’s hair so it can cascade down in curtains around his face. For a moment, it’s like it always is: just the two of them, lost in their own little world where nothing matters but the other. And it remains that way for a while: they rock together, tasting each other’s liquor on their lips and tongue.

Hanzo feels a leg come up. He takes it in one hand and places it on his hip while the other hand tangles in Jesse’s hair. It’s only when McCree’s hands come up to unbutton his shirt and he hears a hum of approval somewhere to his right that Hanzo remembers where they are.

He breaks the kiss, but does not move far from McCree’s lips. He tilts his head slightly, just enough that he can see their first onlooker out of the corner of his eye. He smirks as the woman’s face turns red, then immediately dips his head down to whisper in McCree’s ear, “We have company.”

They kiss again as McCree slides Hanzo’s shirt from his shoulders. Hanzo catches the way McCree’s eyes roll to the side so he can get a glimpse of them woman, too, and he can feel a smile spread across his lover’s lips as someone else approaches their window.

“Just like we wanted,” Jesse says as they break apart. “So let’s put on a good show.”

He sits up. Hanzo reaches for McCree’s shirt and slips it off him with ease, discarding it without a care for where it lands. He crawls forward and McCree crawls away until his back hits the wall, and then Hanzo is on him, hands deftly unzipping McCree’s jeans before palming at his steadily-hardening cock.

“Mmm,” McCree moans. He arches his neck and Hanzo presses his lips to it once, twice, thrice before sinking his teeth in. He glances to the side again and sees two more people have joined the crowd - and it  _is_  slowly becoming a crowd.

Still connected to his neck, Hanzo tugs on McCree’s belt loops encouragingly. McCree lifts his hips and helps his lover slide them down and off, along with his underwear, and soon Hanzo has his thick, hard cock in his hand. He thumbs at the tip and McCree gasps quietly, but he is not the only one. Hanzo smirks with some satisfaction at how clearly some of their ‘admirers’ are enjoying the sight of McCree’s foreskin sliding over the head of his cock.

But the sight of it is all they’re ever going to get. To make sure they know this, Hanzo slides from Jesse’s neck to kiss a line to his collarbone first, then down past his chest, stomach, and pelvis. He lies down, stomach flat to the bed, and gives his lover’s cock a slow, firm stroke before dipping his head down and pressing his lips to it. He takes the head into his mouth and sucks on it lightly, as if testing the waters, before moving down and taking him in as far as he can.

Hanzo opens his eyes to watch the crowd. One of them swallows thickly, eyes glued to Hanzo’s lips where they stretch around McCree’s generous girth; another breathes heavily as he traces his fingers over his own crotch, uncertain if he should touch himself or if it would be too distracting. Hanzo smirks around McCree’s cock and tilts his head to the side again, hoping it comes across as encouraging. It must, because a moment later the man is unzipping his pants.

Satisfied, Hanzo returns to blowing his boyfriend. His eyes flutter shut and he bobs his head up and down, letting the head hit the back of his throat and moaning around it. McCree twitches and jolts beneath him, breathing in with little gasps and stuttered groans. The cowboy’s hands, both prosthetic and real, come to the back of Hanzo’s head and tangle in the loose strands.

“That’s it, baby, just like that,” Jesse breathes. He tosses his head back and moans, loudly, just for the show of it. Hanzo’s cock pulses in response, and he wonders if McCree’s moans excite their audience as much as they do him. They must: McCree is irresistible even when he’s quiet, but when he moans like that… something about the noises he makes awakens something insatiable within Hanzo.

One of McCree’s hands leave his hair to tangle in the sheets. His feet scramble against the silk, and Hanzo knows then that his lover is close. He wants to finish him off then and there, to suck him to completion and swallow everything McCree has to offer just to show that he can, that McCree is  _his_. But he stops himself, pulls back and licks his lips as Jesse deflates below him, whining at the sudden loss.

“Be patient, my love,” Hanzo says. He moves off the bed and stands up to remove his own pants, removing a condom and a tiny tube of lubricant before he does. He faces away from the onlookers and glances at them over his shoulder, pleased at the admiring gazes that rove over his body. He stays there a moment to bask in it before returning to the bed and pulling McCree in for another kiss.

Arms wrap around Hanzo, running along the length of his back and over the swell of his ass. McCree grabs a handful of it and Hanzo moans, arching into the touch.

They break apart and gasp for air, a small string of saliva still connecting their mouths and tongues. Hanzo puts a hand on McCree’s shoulder and gently coaxes him into turning around and over, crowding against the cowboy’s back once he’s finally on his knees. They face the window now, and both men look at their small crowd of voyeurs a moment.

Hanzo takes the shell of McCree’s ear between his teeth and tugs on it, eliciting another beautiful, frisson-worthy moan, and whispers, “Are you ready?” as much for McCree’s benefit as the audience’s.

“Born ready,” Jesse answers immediately. Hanzo laughs and kisses along his jawline, turning his head so he can watch the reactions of their eager onlookers - but more than that, he wants them to see Jesse’s face as he takes him.

Hanzo traces a finger along Jesse’s spine, not stopping until he reaches his lover’s hole. He opens up the tube of lube and coats two fingers in it, slipping them inside with no warning but a light, gentle press to it beforehand.  

Jesse gasps and braces himself on his elbows, dipping down to rest his head on his arms where they join together. Hanzo smiles and hums approvingly. “Look at you. So loose for me already, so ready to take my cock.”

“Please,” Jesse mumbles. Hanzo’s smile grows.

“As you wish, my love,” he says, and he begins to stretch Jesse out even further, scissoring his fingers and thrusting them in and out of him slowly. Jesse groans and sways with each movement of Hanzo’s skilled fingers, urging him to go faster, harder deeper. Some of it, at least, is for show, but Hanzo can tell that Jesse is starting to get impatient for real. He leans down and presses a kiss to the small of McCree’s back before withdrawing his fingers painstakingly slowly.

Jesse groans as Hanzo tears open the condom packet and rolls it on over his cock. He turns to the side and gives his dick a few slow strokes for the benefit of their voyeurs, and he’s pleased when he gets a few groans from them in response, and even one of them saying “God, if only I could get in there.”

Both Jesse and Hanzo barely manage to hold in their laughter at that, and only because they don’t want to ‘break character’ - to acknowledge they are being watched, and that the audience is somehow participating in the act of their lovemaking. They are, though, and Hanzo knows it’s exciting McCree just as much as him to hear how badly one of them wishes to join them.

He leans down again. “Turn around, Jesse,” he whispers. “I want them to see everything. I want them to watch as I fill you up and take you, so that they know that you are  _mine_.”

McCree moans. He takes a moment to compose himself before doing as Hanzo says and turning around so that the onlookers can watch them from the side. Hanzo hums in thought, putting a hand to his chin and stroking his beard before climbing off the bed. He stands at the foot of it and beckons McCree to him with the crook of his finger.

McCree shuffles back quietly, happy to oblige. Hanzo adjusts his positioning a touch, then gives Jesse a quick spank. McCree moans again, but he gets the message and leans forward, head resting on the bed and ass right where Hanzo can reach it.

“Good,” Hanzo says, and after taking a moment to coat his cock with the lube, he slips it inside Jesse.

A breath rushes out of him, out of Jesse, out of the crowd. Hanzo feels as if he is on top of the world, overwhelmed, but so, so happy. He takes in a shaking breath and shifts, pulling back out of Jesse just the slightest bit, and electricity shoots through him as Jesse groans gratefully in response. Then it truly is as if the people watching are not there, and they mean nothing: Hanzo's entire world narrows in on McCree, on the way his lover envelops him so perfectly, clenching and spasming and twitching all around him.

He thrusts into McCree at just the pace he knows Jesse likes to start with: not too fast, but nowhere near slow. He grunts and groans as Jesse pushes back against him, trying to take him in deeper, and he has to grab Jesse by the hips to keep himself steady.

He's brought back to the present by the sound of one of their onlookers whimpering as she reaches under her skirt and plays with herself. It takes Hanzo a half-second to compose himself at that, but he manages to gather himself and slow his pace a little bit. Jesse whines and presses back insistently.

Hanzo chuckles lowly. He reaches up with one hand to stroke Jesse's hair. “Patient, my love,” he soothes. “We would not want to end this too soon.”

“Right,” McCree says, and with a deep breath, he tries to calm himself. It works, and soon he's relaxing into Hanzo's slow rhythm, moaning low in his throat whenever he goes particularly deep.

“Of course...” Hanzo starts. He grips McCree's hair tighter and yanks on it, forcing the cowboy’s head back and drawing a strained gasp from him. “If you would like me to fuck you harder, all you have to do is ask.”

No hesitation. “Fuck me harder,” Jesse gasps. Hanzo hums and jerks his hips, hitting McCree nice and deep, but he doesn’t move past that: Jesse knows what that means, and he utters a quiet, breathy “please” at the same time one of their voyeurs utters the same word.

Hanzo laughs. “Very well,” he says, and true to his word, Hanzo fucks McCree  _hard_. He digs his fingers into the soft flesh just above the curve of Jesse’s hips and slams into him, over and over and over again. Jesse cries out, throwing his head back and smiling like he’s never been happier. Hanzo notes the way he glances at their audience out of the corner of his eye, almost like he’s taunting them, silently bragging about how lucky he is.

And he  _is_  lucky. But not as lucky as Hanzo.

“Enjoying the attention?” Hanzo asks, tone light and almost teasing. He thinks he sees McCree nodding, but it’s hard to tell with how violently his body jerks and twitches in response to Hanzo’s vigorous thrusting. He takes it as an affirmative anyway and pulls out.

Jesse nearly sobs. He turns to look at Hanzo over his shoulder, lust and want and need and pure, unrestrained desperation all over his face. Before he can ask what’s wrong, though, why Hanzo had stopped, the archer flips Jesse over and slams his back down on the bed, crawling over him to kiss him, hard and hungry.

He pulls back just as suddenly as he’d started and Jesse gasps, tongue still half out of his mouth. He licks his lips, staring up at Hanzo with wide, blown-out pupils. Again, he doesn’t speak, but the look is enough to prompt Hanzo to action: he nips Jesse’s lip and says, “Do not forget, Jesse McCree. You are  _mine._  They can stare all they want, but they will never get to touch you the way I do.” He pushes back in. Jesse keens. “And I will make sure you and  _everyone_  knows it.”

McCree bites his lip and draws in a shallow breath, fighting against the moan bubbling up in his throat. A steady stream of precum trickles from his cock, thick and slow, and it pools on his belly. Hanzo licks his lips and reaches down with one hand to start to jerk McCree off. As he does, he begins to thrust again, setting the same rapid pace he had before.

Hanzo does not pause when hears a few whines and groans from their audience, but he does chance a glance over at them. One or two of them are on their knees, faces red as they watch, unblinkingly, as Hanzo pushes McCree closer and closer to completion. A few of them reach out as if they, too, wish to touch McCree. And that’s exactly what Hanzo wants.

He leans forward, bending between McCree’s legs, and kisses his lover’s jawline. “Look, Jesse. Look how badly they want you,” he whispers. With hazy eyes, McCree’s head lolls to the side and he looks at them with a lopsided grin.

“Too bad for them,” he says quietly. “I’m taken.”

Hanzo clenches his teeth and takes a hissing breath through them. He closes his eyes and tenses up, for the first time that night really losing control. His orgasm takes him by surprise - he had not expected a few simple words to undo him so completely. He can hear Jesse’s breathless laugh, and he tightens his grip, not wanting to be completely outdone. He wants Jesse to come, too.

A few more hasty, jerky thrusts as Hanzo rides out his orgasm, and a few more tight, quick strokes with his hand, and soon McCree is joining him, back arching off the bed and hands clenching in the sheets. Hanzo lifts himself up and away just in time to prevent himself blocking the view of Jesse coming, ropes of semen shooting from his cock and splashing over his stomach and chest.

Distantly, Hanzo hears a few more whines and whimpers. He wonders if that means some of their onlookers have finished as well, but he does not care to look: once again, his world has narrowed down to nothing but McCree - his heat, his warmth, and his beautiful, beautiful smile.

Hanzo pulls out and crawls up the bed to be embraced by his lover. They kiss deeply, no longer caring about putting on a show or being watched. When they break apart, McCree smiles, and Hanzo follows suit.

“Not bad for a first time,” he says quietly.

“Not at all,” Hanzo agrees. But next time he knows it will be even better.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this and would like to see more, have a chat, or find out how to support me, please check out my twitter [@tim3hopp3r](https://twitter.com/tim3hopp3r) or follow my writing blog [@intim3ate](https://intim3ate.tumblr.com), where I post progress, WIPs, and take requests.
> 
> If you would like to find out how to support me, I have a handy list of links right [here](https://twitter.com/tim3hopp3r/status/1122210346939244544). Please check it out! I wouldn't be able to do this without people like you supporting me. ♥
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
